


Rhymes With Niagara

by sevenfists



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-26
Updated: 2006-09-26
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfists/pseuds/sevenfists
Summary: Dean gets hit by the Viagra Fairy at a rest stop in Illinois."Christ, would you stop calling it that?" he groans, and bucks his hips up into Sam's waiting hand.





	Rhymes With Niagara

**Author's Note:**

> For the Guess the Author challenge at spn_gleeweek.

Dean gets hit by the Viagra Fairy at a rest stop in Illinois.

"Christ, would you stop calling it that?" he groans, and bucks his hips up into Sam's waiting hand.

"What else should I call it?" Sam asks, amused. He keeps one eye on the restroom door and one eye on Dean's flushed and open face.

"I dunno, fuck—call it a, a sex demon, it wasn't a _fairy_ ," Dean says, and comes. Everywhere.

"Whoa," Sam says, impressed.

"Shut up," Dean says. He tucks himself back into his pants, zips up. "We're finding a motel."

They make it half a mile down the road before Dean starts touching himself.

"Pull over," Sam says. "I'm driving."

Dean doesn't even argue. He rips his pants open as soon as he's in the passenger seat, fists his cock. "Oh yeah," he says. He shoves his other hand up under his shirt, twists at his nipples—Sam can see the motion of it, and he has to force his eyes back to the road.

"Oh yeah," Dean says again, "oh—oh fuck."

"Would you shut up," Sam grates out, and shifts in his seat.

He makes Dean wait in the car while he checks in to the first motel they see—Ma and Pa's Bait & Tackle Inn, or something, Sam isn't really paying attention.

He's barely got the door open before Dean's shoving him around, manhandling him, yanking at his shirt. "Hey," Sam says, and bites at Dean's jaw.

Dean turns his head and catches Sam's mouth with his own, opening hungry and messy, his hands tucked into Sam's front pockets.

Sam tears away. One hand's still shoved down the back of Dean's pants, fingers digging into the thick muscle there. He can't stop thinking about the goddamn fairy winking at him and shaking its glittery wand. "Dean," Sam says, "stop, stop, we don't know—"

"I don't care," Dean says, and drags Sam down onto the floor with him.

After, Dean rolls off Sam and scratches idly at the semen drying on his belly. "Huh," he says.

"I get the first shower," Sam says.

"Only if I don't beat you to it," Dean says. He's getting hard again.

"Christ, Dean," Sam says, and drags himself to his feet, staggers off toward the bathroom.

When Sam comes back out, Dean's still lying there on the floor, idly tugging at his cock. He rolls his head over and looks at Sam, deliberately drops his eyes, his mouth parting.

" _No_ ," Sam says firmly.

"Sam, I need you," Dean says, and his voice drops down at least two octaves—he's doing that on purpose, the bastard. "What if I die? I might die."

"I don't think you're going to die," Sam says. He has to step over Dean to get to his duffel. He clenches his jaw and goes.

Dean, of course, uses his free hand to snag Sam's towel, tugs it down to the floor. "Hey baby, nice ass."

"I'm going to kill you," Sam says. "You won't see it coming."

"When I'm least expecting it, huh?" Dean asks. He circles the base of his cock with his thumb and index finger. "Maybe you should do it now, at least I'd die happy."

Sam puts his duffel on the bed so he won't have to bend over to dig around in it. He doesn't trust his virtue around Dean. "I swear to God, Dean, you're the only person in the world who would get hit by a demented sex fairy."

"Don't call it that," Dean says, sounding exasperated. "It wasn't a goddamn fairy, it was some sort of—I dunno, a succubus or something—"

"If it was a succubus, you'd've been sucked dry on the spot," Sam points out.

" _Whatever_ ," Dean says. He huffs out a breath that turns into a moan. Sam can't help himself, he turns his head—Dean's got two fingers tucked up underneath his balls, pressing rhythmically.

"I want you to suck me off," Dean says, "I want your hot mouth sinking down on my cock. I want to fuck your throat until it makes you gag. And then I wanna get you on your hands and knees on the bed  and—and—"

Sam swallows. "And what," he chokes out.

"And—oh God," Dean says, and he's coming again, spilling thick onto his belly.

Sam stands there, holding his boxers, mesmerized.

"And then I want to fuck you," Dean says. He tugs at his balls, props up one knee so he can rub at his hole. His cock twitches and starts to swell. Again.

"I can't," Sam says, "Dean, three times, I'm not—"

"You will," Dean says, and Sam can't decide whether it's an order or a promise.

A combination of both, it turns out, and Sam comes in ragged, rolling shudders when Dean fucks him across the bedspread.

Lying on the bed after, feeling fucked-out and exhausted, Sam can only roll his eyes when Dean starts thrusting his cock along the cleft of Sam's ass. "No fucking way, Dean," Sam says.

"Shhh," Dean says, his hips twisting, and it's only a minute or two before he comes all over Sam's back.

"Tomorrow," Sam says, "we're figuring out how to fix this."

"Uh-huh," Dean says, and his mouth settles at the back of Sam's neck, gentle and wet. Sam falls asleep like that, feeling Dean press slow kisses right below his hairline.

In the morning, they have sex twice before they even make it out of bed.  



End file.
